Let's just call him or him The Jedward, because by the time we can tell them apart, they'll have fallen out or been melted down for scrap.

The Jedward's real names are John and Edward, but as they're identical in every way - pink Easter Island statues with scoops of shaving foam on their heads - it doesn't matter.

The Jedward is amazingly vain, has one facial expression (none) and one way of talking - an aggrieved up-and-down mumble like a seesaw with a grievance.

ITV2, or 3, or 12 - it's hard to tell when you're so far out from the centre of real telly - has clearly signed them up for Jedward: Let Loose because the duo are a) so bad at music that it's easier on the ear just to have them talk nonsense and walk around pouting for 45 minutes, and b) because they are the most extraordinary pair of bozos the world has ever seen.

The Jedward is a pair of vain twins who probably only hang around together because it saves money on mirrors.

And they seem to have not so much never left home as never been downstairs.

This week's trip into the lower reaches of Hell saw The Jedward having its weak hands held by a long-suffering road manager by the name of Liam.

I feel sorry for Liam, whose job is part surrogate dad and part dog-walker, but I'm also confused by his job description.

Surely "road managers" are people who look after bands on long, rugged, back-breaking tours, where artists sing their hearts out and rock until they drop.

I can't imagine The Jedward doing anything more strenuous than five minutes of Ice Ice Baby at karaoke, then getting frightened by the machine with all the words on and hiding in the toilets.

The Jedward had a busy week in this programme. It went to Ikea where, aided by Liam, it bought some dog toys.

It did a video shoot wearing plastic telephones on its heads. It broke a table.

It invited some girls round for sweets (yes, sweets). And it went speed-dating, and chose the same girl.

Her name? The Jedward wasn't sure. It was either "Keeakky" or "Queeshacky".

"It had, like, 11 letters in it," said the Jedward. OK, so the girl was called Caoimhseach, which is a tough name to pronounce if you didn't grow up in Ireland LIKE THE JEDWARD DID.

It was a long, weird and increasingly scary show. By the end, I was sweating like Morrissey in a Chinese restaurant. But when it finally ground to a halt, onscreen it suddenly said: "Next week, there's more from Jedward..."